


Old Friend, Why Are You So Shy?

by paynofile



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Future, Future Fic, Kissing, M/M, Nervousness, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:09:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynofile/pseuds/paynofile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew he shouldn't text back. He knew it. But then again, Louis hadn't ever really been one to do what he should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friend, Why Are You So Shy?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mea_culpa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mea_culpa/gifts).



> Title from Someone Like You by Adele
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at thonglinson :)

Louis had been staring at the text for at least three minutes.

_Hey_

It seemed simple enough, right? Not something one could analyze over for what was quickly creeping up on five minutes? Then again, Louis had always been the type to overanalyze. Well, maybe not always. The problem with the text was that is had come out of nowhere. If he was used to this name popping up on his screen it wouldn’t have mattered, but it had been years since “HAZZA, KING OF ENGLAND” had appeared there. Louis smiled a little, rereading the name. It is what Harry had entered himself as on that very first day they’d met in the toilets, after Louis had almost peed on him. Cringe. It was referencing some banter they’d had upon the… incident… Wherein Harry had joked that if Louis was the King it would have been an honour to be peed on. He wasn’t sure why he’d never changed the contact. For some reason it felt like something that had to stay, just to hold on to a little bit of that moment, just like how Harry’s contact picture was a blurry shot of the two boys, Louis piggybacking Harry, gigantic smiles on their faces. Louis sighed.

The thing was that it had been 8 years since he’d spoken to Harry. When the band broke up in 2016, they’d all promised to keep in touch with one another and they had- for about a year. Then things had started to dwindle. Liam had gotten busy with his solo career, Zayn had become more reclusive, working constantly on his art and his writing, Niall had formed a new band where he played guitar and sang backup, and Harry, well, Harry was Harry. He’d lived with Ed for a while, had a place with Niall for a while, partied, giggled, baked, and just generally enjoyed himself. Louis had watched the friendship splinter. He himself was now doing some song writing part time, he’d even worked with Liam, and was managing a minor football league.

It wasn’t necessarily bad that they’d all headed in separate directions. (In his head, Louis laughed and added _instead of One Direction!)_ They were all doing things they loved now, after all. But Louis would admit, only to himself, that he had played a part in the parting of the ways because he knew he needed to get away from Harry. Harry had always been this force hovering over him, drawing him in, and it seemed like since that first day in the bathroom he’d been resisting that pull. Well, maybe he hadn’t resisted for the first little bit. Memories of tickle fights and running around naked and sharing clothes and fake kissing in interviews brought back both joy and that feeling he’d had ever since he’d started trying to push himself away from Harry. It was something like a wall.

Louis swallowed hard and re-read the three characters again.

He and Eleanor had, of course, broken up long ago. It had never felt right between them. Louis didn’t like to even think it, but she had been a part of the shield he had been building between himself and Harry. Harry had shielded himself- or been shielded- in other ways.

It just felt, in this moment, like texting back would be an admission. He would be admitting to those nights he lay awake and thought about how Harry’s long fingers would feel against his bare back, to the times he doodled the words _Louis Styles_ and _Louis Tomlinson-Styles_ and _Louis Styles-Tomlinson_ on loose sheets of paper and then ripped it into tiny, tiny pieces and threw it out for fear of being found out; it would be admitting to the night when he pulled Zayn’s wasted ass into the back of the tour bus and stared him in the eyes and asked if he thought Harry liked him. And Louis didn’t want to be the boy who had done all that. He was 31 now. He lived in a nice flat in a nice area of town and he had a nice job and a nice car and everything was fine. Harry was like some big, blustery, cloud of chaos that Louis couldn’t help but be drawn to, and that downright terrified him.

He knew he shouldn’t text back. He knew it. But then again, Louis hadn’t ever really been one to do what he should.

_whats up?_

A minute passed, then two, and Louis even allowed himself a moment to imagine Harry doing the same thing he just did before he dismissed it and convinced himself Harry was in the shower or on the toilet or cooking or just not looking at his phone. Or he wasn’t going to text back. That was an option.

The familiar ding came after 2 and a half minutes, not that Louis had been counting.

_Not much just missing you a bit I guess_

Louis’ heart paused for a moment and then resumed its beating, now ten times faster than before.  Letting it sit before he replied would make him seem cooler but fuck it, Louis was not cool.

_we should hang out sometime, its been so long. u hung out with the others much?_

To Louis’ relief, the reply came just as quickly as he’d sent his.

_Yeah, we get together pretty often, espec me and Niall. You? And what about drinks tonight if you aren’t busy_

_no I dont really see the guys much, liam a couple times and niall now n then. drinks sounds cool maybe ronnys at 8?_

Oh shit, why did he use the word “cool?” That was most definitely not cool. Eight, however, seemed like a good time to propose. It made Louis appear to have a busy night, maybe dinner with friends, when in reality his plans for tonight consisted of watching football reruns and eating takeout. He had never really learned to cook, seeing as Harry had done it for him for the first couple years that he’d lived away from home.  He checked the time: 4:00. Plenty of time to style his hair. Or not style his hair. Or maybe style his hair so it looked like he hadn’t styled it. Fuck, he felt like he was 19 again, memorising his bandmate’s smell and naming fake pigeons. Maybe he should show up to the bar in those awful red pants that he had, for some inexplicable reason, thought were a good idea back then. He wondered what Harry would think of that. Probably, his mouth would gape open and then slowly morph into an enormous grin, like everything was one big joke and he couldn’t be more pleased. God, that boy had charm. Man. That _man_ had charm. Harry was 29, after all. Not exactly a boy anymore.

_Perfect. See you there x_

For a while Louis just wandered the flat, occasionally swearing to himself. Why had Harry just contacted him out of the blue? Louis had just been trying to avoid thinking of him for the past eight years, and it had gotten easier. It had, really. But Harry had always been there on the edge of his mind, like this itch that he couldn’t scratch because that would lead to all sorts of things that would be out of his control, and not in a good, fun way, rather in a scary, no control, falling head over heels into another person way. And that wasn’t Louis. He sure seemed carefree; at least when he was younger, but he always knew what was coming before he set out on some mischief. Probably a big part of it was that Louis was so good at reading people. He knew exactly how far he could push Paul, their old security guard, before he’d snap. Harry, though, Harry was somehow just beyond his powers of analysis. It seemed almost as if there was no limit to what Louis could do with him, or to him.

But Harry was the past. He was over, had been for a long, long time. Then again, tell Harry that.

Louis finally resigned himself to the fact that he had no idea why this was happening or why he was doing it or what he would say when they met up, and had a shower. He shaved extra carefully; leaving just a hint of scruff which he thought made him look rather manly, swept his hair downward in a slightly wavy fringe, and picked out an outfit that consisted of tight blue jeans and a loose band t-shirt. They were just going to Ronny’s after all, it wasn’t fancy. And, well, he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard.  After an hour and a half of making himself look sufficiently casual, Louis stood in front of his floor length mirror and contemplated himself. He looked good, he decided, not like someone over thirty (shudder), more like a twenty-something. Sure, he had a few more wrinkles around his eyes, and that tummy from his younger days had come back, but he hadn’t gotten many more tattoos since his days in the band, just hadn’t been inspired, and his eyes were still bright, his hair was still soft, he was still rather good-looking, if he did say so himself.

It was funny, he felt almost like a silly high school student preparing for their first date with the quarterback. He was all shivery, tucking stray hairs into place and checking the clock every few minutes to be sure he wasn’t late even though there was still an hour and a half before their meeting time. Once he couldn’t fiddle any more, Louis grabbed his keys, slammed the door, and left his building. He wasted time eating extremely slowly at a nearby fast food place, even though his stomach was turning so much he could barely swallow, until it was time to head to the bar.

Louis walked there slowly so he wouldn’t arrive early or even right on time, it was very important to play it cool. Finally he walked in, trying to keep his face confident and his steps a normal speed. He scanned the crowd once and as soon as he glimpsed him, his eyes locked on to Harry. He would have known him anywhere, even though his back was turned and he was chatting with the bartender and his hair was considerably smaller than it had been. It crossed Louis’ mind that Harry could have been wearing a wig and a disguise and Louis would have still known exactly who he was. There was just something magnetic about him, like he was north and Louis was a compass.  He stood for a moment, realizing that he could just turn around and walk away right now, and never think about Harry Styles again, and go back to pretending that he felt more at home in his flat than he had in that boy’s arms,  but Louis was not the type to change his mind or to be afraid. So he walked up to the curly haired boy in the blazer with a thumping in his chest that was double time to the music playing.

“Uh, hey,” Louis began, lightly tapping Harry’s shoulder. A minute ago he’d been talking to the bartender but the man had moved off to help some new customers. Harry spun around and a gigantic shit-eating grin appeared on his face.

“Louis!” he practically shouted, and, well, wow. Louis was frozen still staring at him. It wasn’t like he had completely changed; he’d just… gotten older. That’s what people do when you don’t see them for eight years, he reminded himself. The mishmash of mostly stupid tattoos on his bicep had been added to and now formed a half sleeve from his shoulder to just above his elbow. His hair maintained its curl, but it was significantly tamed and closer to the length of a normal human being’s. His skin looked soft and tanned and his smile was just as big as ever, that twinkle in his green eyes perhaps brighter than before.

It was most certainly not what Louis had intended to do, but when Harry spun around and flung his arms out, Louis fell into them. He wrapped himself tight around Harry and rested his head on the almost-stranger’s shoulder and gripped the back of his jacket and inhaled his scent, which was almost just as he remembered it, only perhaps a little cleaner and a little more leathery. Harry stood up into the hug and Louis realized immediately how much shorter he still was. Possibly Harry had even kept growing, which was just plain unfair. After a moment, Louis’ embarrassment overshadowed his desire to touch this long, lanky, (and now surprisingly muscular) boy. Man. Man-boy. Boy-man. Thing.

“Oops,” Louis laughed, pulling back and looking at his feet.

“Hi,” Harry said slowly, and even though Louis was just looking down at the ridiculous glittery boots Harry was wearing, he could feel the eyes travelling over him. He looked up and met them, and on both of their faces, nervous smiles slid into place.

Louis plopped onto the next barstool over. “So, uh, this is kind of weird.”

“Yeah, a little. It’s been quite a while.”

“Nine years.”

“I guess so. It seems like longer. But also shorter?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Like, I still sort of think of myself in terms of the band, but on the other hand you look… older.”

“Well, _thank_ you! You look old too!”

“Not old!” Louis said, “Just old-er, like, that you were before.”

“I know, I know,” Harry laughed, “I was joking. And people tend to do that, you know. Age.”

“Right. Right. I guess this isn't neverland after all.” His remark gets a giggle from Harry, which Louis considers a point to him.

Louis noticed the guy behind the counter hovering nearby and flagged him over.  He ordered himself a beer and harry followed suit.

“So, why did you decide to, y’know, text me?” Louis began once their drinks had arrived.

“it’s kind of silly, actually.”

“Well, I’m kind of silly.” Louis sipped his drink and tucked his legs up under the barstool.

“I was just feeling sort of, I don’t know, nostalgic I guess. I mean, everything’s going really good right now, I’m hanging out with Ed lots and jamming and thinking about doing more music, but really just taking it slow, y’know? And I know all the other guys are doing good. I mean, Niall started Eraser with Josh and some other guys, and they’re doing great. You been to see them?”

“Yeah, Niall invited me to one of their concerts a couple years back. They have a great sound.”

“Definitely. And Liam’s career is rivalling Lady Gaga’s- I always knew he’d be the Justin Timberlake to our N Sync.”

“Yeah, I got his album when it dropped. He sounds great. And, of course, that has everything to do with the fact that I co-wrote some of the tunes.”

“Everything, I’m sure,” Harry smiled, “And Zayn’s art is so cool and he showed me some of his poems and they are just beautiful. Well, I guess he has good enough inspiration!” This last bit was said with a sort of wink, and Louis just nodded along as if he knew What Harry meant. Hadn’t Zayn and Perrie broken up? “Those two are so cute together. I always knew it would happen.”

“You mean Perrie?”

“What? No.” Harry shook his head. “Don’t you know about Liam and Zayn?”

“Oh, uh, apparently not.”

Harry practically squealed like a 14 year old girl passing on gossip. “I can’t believe you didn’t know! They’ve been dating for the past five or six years, and they’re getting really serious. They actually just started exploring adoption possibilities.”

“Wow! I had no idea. That’s… Well, I was going to say unexpected, but it really wasn’t.”

“I know, oh God you need to hang out with them, they’re so sweet it hurts.” Harry took a swig of his beer and refocused himself, settling back into his normal, low, gravelly, slower-than-Louis’-gran-crossing-the-road voice. “But my point is, everyone is doing good, but I still miss it. One Direction. It was such a wild ride, sometimes I don’t even believe it happened. But I was thinking about that and I was thinking about how I hang out with all the others but I hadn’t seen you in what seemed like forever, which is weird, because we were such good friends, at least at the beginning.”

Louis let the rumblings of the bar fill the space between them briefly, and then replied “yeah, we sure were.”

Louis senses Harry’s eyes fall on him again, and he turned his head slightly to meet the gaze. They stared for what felt like hours, everything around them fading into the background because _God,_ it had been a long time, and they were both pretty beautiful. So why not indulge themselves a little?

“You wanna know something dumb?” Harry said softly, as if it really wasn’t all that dumb.

“Yeah, I do,” Louis replied quietly.

“There were some moments back then, on the X Factor and when we were touring and sometimes filming videos and sometimes just sitting there when I wanted to-“ He broke the eye contact, looked down, scuffed his shiny boot on the floor.

“You wanted to…” Louis prompted, suddenly very, very interested in what Harry had to say.

“I just had this urge to- to kiss you. Isn’t that dumb?”

Louis couldn’t talk for a very long moment, it felt as though his throat was swollen shut and his tongue was made of lead, but finally he breathed “If it is, then I’m pretty dumb too.”

Harry’s head snapped up, eyebrows raised. “You mean you had thoughts like… You wanted to…”

Louis didn’t answer, just did what he’d wanted to do all night. No, longer, for the last 15 years since he first laid eyes on Harry Styles, X Factor hopeful, in a toilet and practically peed on him. He slid a hand along Harry’s head, just behind his ear, and pulled the taller boy’s lips to meet his.

Louis knew it was cheesy, but he couldn’t help picturing fireworks or butterflies or electricity or something, because the kiss was, well, perfect. It was perfect in the way their teeth clicked against each other briefly and they both almost-giggled, in the way he felt Harry’s eyelashes brush his skin, in the dryness of Harry’s lips, in the fingers that found their way to Louis’ hip and dug in there, and in the way It ended with both of them falling apart back onto their stools with dopey grins on their lips.

“Shit,” Louis said, “Why couldn’t you have said something sooner? We could’ve been doing that for the last nine years instead of me hiding from you.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault! You should’ve made the first move!”

They bickered aimlessly for a few more minutes until Harry pulled Louis into another kiss to shut him up, this one far more reckless than the last, with hands creeping toward butts and fingers tangling in hair. It was strange, because this was the first time they’d done this, but it felt like this was just coming home. Like it had always been there and they had just been edging around it, and now everything was erupting around them. The bar was so tiny, so insignificant, compared to the giganticness of their hearts beating together and their mouths working against one another in perfect rhythm.

Louis smiled as he peppered kisses across Harry’s cheekbone. He had always known, deep down, that he wanted this, but he never knew how much he was missing it. There was some vacuum in his soul that was finally beginning to be filled. And it wasn’t full yet, far from it. Louis had a feeling he’d need to suck up all of Harry to be properly complete. But it was a start, and there was time, and Harry’s hands were resting on his waist, and he smelled of leather and fresh air and Louis wouldn’t have been surprised if they started glowing, right then and there, in the middle of the crowded bar. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and thank you mea_culpa for the prompt! Once again, my tumblr is thonglinson and you can find the rest of my fics on my AO3 profile!


End file.
